


Pit Stop

by gerbilfluff



Category: Wreck-It Ralph (2012)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pissing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:31:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1599974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerbilfluff/pseuds/gerbilfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts, as most bad decisions do, with a dare at a bar. What Felix doesn't know is how much Turbo has planned from there...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pit Stop

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Mother's Day, everyone! I got you porn. <3
> 
> WARNING/COMMON SENSE PSA: This fic has a scene where there's mouth rape via getting the other party too drunk to be able to say no. Don't do what Turbo does here, kids. This story is one person getting their jollies from writing down a fantasy. It should go without saying that doing this in real life is BEYOND wrong. In fact, what are kids doing here? Go play somewhere else, kiddos. There's dicks in here.
> 
> There's piss voyeurism themes, too. If watching someone else pee is foreplay for you -- high five! There's finally a "Wreck-It Ralph" porn fic for you out there! Woohoo! ...But if you're not into that, this might not be your cuppa'. No hard feelings.
> 
> I don't own the characters or concepts of "Wreck-It Ralph." No profit is being made from this file. Special thanks to slashjunky ( http://slashjunky.tumblr.com/post/36146079481/owner-thinks-that-anyone-drawing-come-or-piss ) and usb-dongle ( http://usbdongle.tumblr.com/post/39338303405/okay-so-someone-made-a-post-about-how-turbo-has-to ) for providing such great inspiration/headcanons to a fellow Turbo pervert, and to Marty, who is best muse.

Pit Stop  
by Apricot the Gerbil

It was one thing to _figure_ your plan would work without a hitch, Turbo reflected. It was another thing entirely to be sitting here in Tapper's bar, watching it play out in front of you.

"Okay, I'll bet you can't tell which of these root beers is the special kind FOUR times in a row!" he said, and nudged the mug with Tapper's special after-hours brand slightly closer to the handyman swaying on the stool next to him.

Fix-It Felix grinned even wider, face reddened from the three losses prior. "You're on, pal!" he slurred to the racer, grabbing the nearer mug and clinking it against Turbo's.

Turbo felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to find Tapper there, eyeing the two of them with concern. "You sure he's gonna be all right?" the bartender asked, nodding at the Fix-It kid. "Four specials... That's a lot for one night. All I'm sayin'."

"Hey. Psst. Fix-It," Turbo called, snapping his fingers by Felix's ear. Felix lowered his drink. "Tapper here's worried. Tell 'im you're fine."

"No _you're_ fine," Felix shot back.

Turbo glanced at Tapper a wary moment, then asked Felix, "What's your name?"

"Fix... Fix-It. Junior," came the answer, as Felix's forehead sagged against the rim of the glass, bending his cap askew.

"Close enough. See? He's fine," Turbo said, waving Tapper away.

Tapper crossed his arms. "One more for each of you past this one, and you call it a night." He fixed his eyes on Turbo. "And you make sure he gets home all right."

"Wouldn't dream otherwise," Turbo replied with a saccharine smile.

\------

"I dunno, Turbo. Maybe should... shouldn't be headin' to my bedroom. The Nicelanders... Th'r nice 'n all, but. Kinda ol'-fashioned?"

Turbo raised an eyebrow at Felix, slumped in the seat across from him in the Fix-It Felix Jr tram.  "What'd'ya mean?"

"Dunno if they'd like seein' me sharing a bed fer the night with... With a. Y'know." He leaned in close to Turbo, whispering with his thick root beer breath. "A _racing game."_

They both winced when the tram came to a lurching halt outside the Nicelander Apartments complex. "Dunno about you, but _I'm_ more worried about finding a bathroom," Turbo said.

Felix tipped his head, his nod lopsided but hurried. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. Let's go 'head, take the el'vator up to my room, gotta. One a' those, up--"

Turbo cut him off with a strangled sound. "Don't think I can hold it that long." Which wasn't a lie. It'd been a while since he'd put away that much at Tappers, and regular or not, five root beers was five root beers. If the Surge Protectors weren't so strict, he'd debated stopping to piss in a corner back in the tram station. Wasn't making _that_ mistake twice...

At least the night was still going according to plan, this way. He gingerly hoisted himself over the side of the tram, heading towards the back of the building. "I got a better idea. Follow me!"

"But... there's no bathroom back..." Felix started, before hurrying out the tram door to catch up.

"You got bushes, right?" Turbo said, coming to a stop by the row of squared-off hedges lining the far edge of the grounds. He unzipped his jumpsuit all the way down and took his aching dick in hand, not having to fake a groan as a stream of hot yellow pixels spilled onto the leaves to the chiptune _plip plip plip_ all 8-bit characters made.

"Ungh..." he grunted, eyes rolling to the sky as the square-cornered splatter puddle on the ground grew larger and larger. He couldn't believe he'd held on as long as he had. He called over his shoulder to Felix, still watering the plants. "Sure you don't want in on this? Bet you need it just as much as..."

He trailed off, getting a look at the pained expression twisting Felix's face. The heavy blush. The nervous eyes, darting back to the apartment windows, through the frantic, arm-wringing squirm dance Felix was doing.

"You really gonna hold it?" Turbo asked, his grin snide. His trail was down to little square droplets. He emptied out with a shake, glancing back at the Fix-It kid. "If anyone actually sees, you can tell 'em it was my ide--"

Taking quick, determined steps up to Turbo's right before he could finish the thought, Felix jerked down his fly and fished out his bits, wailing in relief as he sprayed hard and fast into the shrubbery, _"Hiiiii-_ yo Jiminy...eee...!"

His cry arched on past the words, getting softer as the _pliplipliplip_ gush eased down to a steady _plip plip_ stream. Turbo whistled in a low curve, impressed. "Must feel great, gettin' rid of all that, huh?"

Felix kept his eyes shut tight, but nodded with a frail "mm-hm..!" He didn't see the racer licking his lips, eyes lingering over the equipment hissing Felix's need away onto the bushes. There was just the start of a light slapping sound, quiet and continuous over the spattering, to be heard.

Few things were more gorgeous than a trophy who didn't know he was about to be won, Turbo thought.

"What's the..." Felix said, turning to stare to the left of him. As his stream _plip_ ped down to a sprinkle, he giggled, his whole body wagging limply back and forth with his last shakes. "Turbo, you..." He nodded at the plump gray hard-on bobbing out from the racer's fist. "Your ding-a-ling... S'sure happy to see you!"

"How 'bout that," said Turbo, grinning back ever so widely. He reached for Felix's dick with his free hand. "Here. Lemme help with that."

Felix found this hilarious; the urine may have left him, but the booze certainly hadn't. "Turbo, you're... Y're _silly."_ he managed through his tittering, pushing Turbo away. "I don't need help with that, I do this ev'ry day! Just never out'n the open before, like t'ni--"

That Turbo's lips were suddenly mooshing against his shut Felix up, at least for the moment. The racer leaned away, but stayed close, his words low and breathy. "What do you think about? When you're playin' with yourself?"

"Turbo, I..." Felix began, reeling a moment. "When I'm what?"

"When you touch yourself. After the arcade's closed and you're alone. In your bed." There was a deathly urgency to the racer's voice as he drew nearer; that quiet slapping sound hadn't stopped. "What'd'ya think about?"

Felix's head wobbled from side to side. "I... I dun' have any idea what yer talkin' bout. I don't..."

Turbo snorted, yellow eyes rolling bright in the dark. "Big surprise there. Well _I've_ thought about doin' _this_ , ever since I heard you were the biggest game here. After mine, of course."

Turbo smooched him again, but not like the Nicelanders did when Felix finished fixing the building. This felt sharper. Rough. Like Turbo was trying to eat his mouth.

The racer broke away for air. He was fully panting, now. "Get on your knees, okay?" he demanded.

Felix frowned at the slurry of yellow pixels around them. "But there's--"

 _"Just do it."_ That sharp feeling, again. "I'm almost there."

Felix glanced down at Turbo's pumping fist, at his bare dongle waggling out in the air. He felt too boneless to do anything when he felt Turbo's hand pressing down on his shoulder, shoving him to kneel upon the wet but immaculately trimmed lawn.

"Open your mouth," Turbo told him, so he did. He didn't expect his buddy to stuff his fingers in and spread his jaws wider.

"That doshen't go in _there,"_ he mumbled around Turbo's fingers, chuckling as the grey boner loomed closer. "Tschilly Turb--"

"Ohhh~," Turbo groaned, voice wilting at the soft wet warmth. He pushed himself in deeper, both hands going for the sides of Felix's mouth, keeping drunk teeth out of harm's way. "Fix-It. Oh, wow. I'm... This is incredible."

Felix said nothing, his head still swimming at the bulky weight sliding in and out over his tongue. It tasted bitter. Salty. This was an awfully weird handshake Turbo knew. The handyman moaned a little, trying to pull his head away, but this just made Turbo's jimmy stick start moving faster. More jerky.

"Gonna spill, Fix-It. A whole sticky load, down your throat. You're gonna swallow." Turbo's narrowed eyes glowed down at Felix through his rocking and huffing. "Gonna have a bit of my code in you _forever_ , and don't you forget, that's the closest to bein' number one you're _EVER_ gonna... gonnagahahh..." His hips rolled, tensing up. "Hah-- _hahh--"_

With a sound any gamer at Litwack's would recognize as a Turbo Time racer hitting a power-up, he flooded Felix's mouth. He could feel Fix-It choke after the first hot squirt, biting down on Turbo's fingers and trying to cough back the second and the third…

But he gulped down what was left.

"Atta _boy,"_ Turbo told him, taking his fingers out from Felix's mouth at last. He wiped the semen and saliva gloss from his hands onto his jumpsuit before patting Felix on the head fondly. "You're the best friend a guy like me could ask for, you know that?"

Felix blinked back up at Turbo, squared-off spunk splats dribbling down his chin, his stare worlds away. "What juss' happened?" he asked, voice ragged and dizzy. 

_"Exactly."_

Out of nowhere, a brick struck the ground near their feet with a thunderous slap. Turbo flinched back, making a sound usually only heard from glitch screens.

"Oh… Hiiii, Ralph!" Felix called out hoarsely.

 _"KEEP IT DOWN_ OVER THERE!" came a roar from the giant rubble pile nearby. "Some of us've gotta work in the morning!"

 _"Okay!"_ the handyman yelled back with a grin, before trailing into a coughing fit.

Turbo clutched at his chest, panting like someone on their last life, dumbfounded. He looked at the Fix-It kid. "Does that guy throw bricks at you often?"

Felix's head lolled in a way that was impossible to decipher as a yes or no. He reached to brush at the goo on his face with the back of his hand. "M'wet. And… I dun' feel so good. My throat hurts…"

Turbo said nothing.

"Sorry, buddy. I dunno 'bout tonight anymore," Felix went on. "Kind of just. Wanna go t' bed..."

Turbo's fists clenched and unclenched. His glare at whoever was over there in the shadows of the dump softened from ugly to merely sour… before coming around to the grin he'd had moments before. What did it matter if somebody had seen them? Turbo'd still won this game. Its hero, at least. Which, he could vouch, was just as massively satisfying.

"Sure, let's... Let's get you to bed," he said, and slowly zipped up his jumpsuit. He reached out a hand to help get the handyman back to his feet, careful to look behind them for any more incoming bricks.

\------

"Is he going to be all right?" asked Mary in her squared pink nightgown and cap, as Turbo closed the bedroom door behind him.

"Oh, sure. He was already snoring before his head hit the pillow," the racer said with a toss of his hand, his other deep in the side pocket of his jumpsuit. "Thanks again for letting us in."

"Well... I'm..." Mary said, fidgeting the edge of her sleeves nervously. "I may not say this to racing games much, but... Oh, I'm just so happy he was out with _you_ tonight!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands. "Our Felix is too kind to the bad guys when he's out and about. I hear they're all so jealous of good guys like you two... If he'd've run across one of them in a state like he was in, who _knows_ what could've happened to him!"

"Oh... of course!" the racer beamed. "Don't worry about a thing." He turned towards the elevator doors, saying, "I'd better get back to Turbo Time, though. The other two are probably wondering what happened to me."

A smirk slowly crept across his face as he stepped into the Fix-It Felix Jr tram, felt it lurch back towards the main station. He pulled the golden FELIX medal from his pocket, holding it up by the ribbon to better admire it. There'd been a whole wall full of them in Felix's room, but he'd made sure to choose the shiniest.

Later, stretched out in his tire bed, Turbo wrapped the silky red ribbon round and around the hard-on he'd been petting through his jumpsuit since he crossed back into his game. He shuffed the smoothness in his fist to the memory of Fix-It's puppy-dog eyes staring up past the dick in front of him. That mouth. Sweet Tobikomi, that beautiful wet palace of a _mouth._

With that fresh in his mind, the edge of the winner's medal felt better sliding against the ridge of his cockhead than anything he could imagine.

He came hard, howling through grit teeth, frosting the FELIX imprint with white pixel slime to another chiptune power-up fanfare... then slumped against the tire ridges, the medal still a pleasantly heavy weight swaying from his crotch.

He lay there, idly stroking out the last warm drops from his softening prick onto the ribbon curls. It _had_ been better to take a medal than to go with the idea that first hit him upon settling Fix-It in bed -- jerking off on his face as he slept. He could smear up a medal as much as he wanted, with nobody the wiser. And besides, leaving spunk all over his neighbor wouldn't have looked very polite, would it? 

That's right, Turbo thought, curling up in his tire, his grin wide and sated. Wasn't Felix lucky to be with one of the good guys tonight. The best in the arcade, even.

So long as everyone knew who was number one around here, he could be as good a good guy as anyone could ask for.


End file.
